


Slack Action

by boardpresence



Category: Jonnor - Fandom, The Fosters (TV 2013)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boardpresence/pseuds/boardpresence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is moving to LA, and Jude's expectations run up against reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

              **PROLOGUE**

              Predicting the future is really very challenging when everything is up in the air. Especially when those things are books, assorted knick-knacks, and that nicely framed picture of your family. At first, Jude woke up thinking he was having some sort of panic attack or bout of nausea to be blamed on the scallops he had for dinner.  It was a slow rocking sensation, but that quickly gave way when he noticed his lamp was doing the same thing.  Suddenly, the rocking was not so gentle.  And then the posters on the wall caught the wave.  And the books.  The worst book of the lot was the god-awful tome he had to lug to history class, it was thick and heavy, and it came down on his chest like a ton of bricks.  The next things to fall were the photos of him, his family, and of Connor.  He really missed Connor, and now, as the frame hit his headboard, the glass had been shattered. 

             He looked up at the golden plush bear Connor had given him. It was shaking back and forth like an excited cub.  It was mesmerizing. Had he looked up, he would have seen the bronze head of Darth Vader concluding its journey from the top shelf to the top of Jude’s head.  He felt a warm, liquid-like sensation flowing down his ears.  Then everything went black.

            Then the lights were overwhelming, at first in many colors, then just white. He could hear their voices, some commanding, but there was a soft whisper that cut through the confusion.

            “Everything is fine sweetheart.”

            The hands that held his were soft like the voice, but firm.

            “Everything is going to be okay.  You’re going to be okay.”

            He twisted his fingers through the hand and touched velvety flannel. He tried to turn his head.

            “Don’t try to move.” It was the commander. “Can you hear me?”

            He could but he had no voice of his own.  Then the rocking began again.  Panic.  Then there was beeping.  It was loud, urgent, and then the velvet flannel disappeared, only to be replaced by rough hands. Commanding hands. Hands that were moving quickly. He was moving quickly.

            The soft voice faltered “It’s okay baby, you’re going to be okay. Mama’s here with you.”

            More lights, different lights that were flickering above.  Square after square.  The soft voice was trailing behind.  Then came a very distant voice, a voice that was everywhere.  It was speaking in another language.  A new commander spoke, and it was so much closer than the others.  It spoke the same language as the everywhere voice. He reached to find the velvet flannel, but all he felt was a stab in his arm. 

            The new commander spoke again “In three, two, one.”

 

***

           

            “Hey, bubba, it’s time to go.”

             Lena’s hand glided over Jude’s shoulders, drawing Jude back into the reality of the courthouse.  He had no idea how long he and Connor had been standing there, eyes closed, minds lost in the feel of arms and the warmth of necks, the sound of slow breathing blocking out the murmur of voices echoing off marble columns, the rhythmic beat of their hearts, compressed together.  They let go. “Hey, so when are you going?” Jude asked, his voice cracking in the process.

             “I think at the end of the week.”

             “So soon.”  Jude said, somewhere between pleading and questioning.

             “Yeah, I guess I need to be there to sign up for school.”

             “Well, at least we have a week.  There’s no school, so we kinda have a lot of us-time for the rest of the summer.” Jude did not understand where this optimism came from, but there it was coming out of his mouth. He wished he felt how he sounded.

              The universe was cruel.  His life had been so brutally unfair for so long, then he found a home and a family. That family brought him to a school where he met this wonderful boy.  This boy whom he loved and who loved him back.  Why couldn’t the universe let that be? It seemed now to Jude that the curse of his life had passed on to Connor.  Connor, whose life was peaceful before Jude arrived, whose parents were now divorced, whose father couldn’t seem to accept him. Now it was school, the institution that had brought them together, that had set the date of their separation. Jude sucked in his nascent tears.  

             They walked out to the parking lot. For a moment Jude was going to walk the distance to where Connor’s father was idling his car, but he stopped, gripped with anger.  Whatever good will Adam had earned with Jude had evaporated.  It was Connor’s decision to move to L.A, but that decision had been forced on him by Adam’s selfishness.  Sure, he said he was trying his best.  His best was not enough.  He was a lesser man.  Jude’s anger resolved into contempt.  And he could not—would not—disguise it. So instead of making a bad situation worse, he said “I’m going to go meet my moms.”

            “I have something for you in the car, though.” Connor said, contravening Jude’s decision.

            Once again, Jude compacted his pain into the pit of his stomach. There would be time for that later when he was alone in his room.  As if acting under the influence of Newton’s third law of motion, the pain he pushed down buoyed his head up, and he floated over to the car in a daze.

             Connor opened the door and picked up from the passenger seat a gift bag. “I was going to wait, but I wanted you to have this now.” Connor said quietly. 

             Jude took the bag and ruffled through the crepe paper and pulled out a small stuffed animal, a golden bear cub.  It wore a shirt that said _bear with me_. Jude laughed through the slowly emerging tears that he had been fighting so hard to keep in. “I love it.”

            Connor choked out “There’s something else.” He wasn’t in the best shape either.

            Jude pulled out a small picture frame.  It was a shot of him and Connor sitting in the sand on the beach. They were side by side, arms together and sharing a pair of headphones.  They were both looking at the camera and laughing in surprise, Jude’s hand was up as if to say stop.  He remembered that day quite fondly. “Callie took this.  How did you— ” Jude began to question.

           “I asked her for it.  It was going to be part of your birthday present, but I figured that since…you know.”

            Jude nodded. “It’s perfect.” He wrapped his arms around Connor. Two days ago he wouldn’t have done it in front of Adam for assorted and unnamable reasons, but now Adam was nothing but a bag of watery meat with a driver’s license.  Jude availed himself of Connor’s lips—equally for the sheer joy of it, as a reward for holding it together, and to punish Adam for his weakness.  It felt awesome.

          They pulled away from each other. “I’ll see you in the morning?” Jude asked.

          “Definitely.” Connor replied with a smirk smeared across his face like badly applied lipstick.

          When Jude returned home he ran upstairs and placed the bear cub and photograph on the shelf above his bed.  He studied the collected knick-knacks, the pictures of his new family, his copy of _A Wrinkle In Time_ , a bottle of blue nail polish, a baseball, the bronze head of Darth Vader, the wind-up chattering teeth Jesus gave him, a stake from a tent, movie tickets, his Mr. Potato-Head, Connor’s hospital bracelet.  He had never had things like this, or at least that he got to keep for very long.

         Jude was soon distracted by the return of Jesus.  He joined his family in welcoming their brother back, gulping down the celebratory dinner for Callie’s adoption, and generally reveling in the completeness of his family.  He barely noticed the acid pain brewing in his stomach until he got ready for bed and again took stock of his treasury of things. He thought of cuddling with the plush bear as he fell asleep, but decided against drawing attention to it by doing so. The thought of having to discuss the origin of the bear with Jesus was intolerable--he had been so removed from it all, and having to rehash the summer was too much right now. There would be time and energy later. He contented himself with a last look at the photograph from the beach and laid down to sleep.  It was sometime before dawn that the rocking began.

 

***

            The first thing Jude heard was a quiet, repetitive beeping. Was it his alarm? No, it did not feel like a school day.  It was still summer. He opened his eyes and it was dark.  This was an unfamiliar room.  He closed his eyes, exhausted from the question of where he was.  He opened his eyes and it was light now. Lena and Stef were there. Hi moms.  He closed his eyes again.  He felt their hands on his arms.  He opened his eyes, and again it was dark. He shifted his head. Callie was asleep on a chair in the corner. Brandon was looking out the window.  He closed his eyes.  He felt a hand on his chest, the sensation of plugs in his ears, then the rhythmic beating of a heart.  It was so familiar. 

            He wanted to open his eyes but he couldn’t, the weight was too much. He slipped into a darkness filled with a familiar rhythm.  He remembered a room filled with fading summer light.  There was a hat on the nightstand next to the bed. He could feel the jersey knit sheets, and the arms that felt so smooth against his back.  There was the pluck of buttons in his fingers and the smell of freshly washed hair in his nose.  He remembered the motion of his hands moving sleeves of linen cloth up and over and off.  The novel sensation of warm skin touching his stomach filled him, and the sharp intake of breath that momentarily broke the contact.  He could taste tender lips and the intrepid tongue winding its way through his mouth.  He could feel the familiar rhythm against his chest, he could hear the rushing of blood.  Then he floated up and a dangerous voice said “It’s time to go home.” He retreated to the comfort of the void.

            Jude opened his eyes.  He felt it was time to keep them open.  He looked out the window and could see the sun peeking up over the tops of the trees in the distance.  It was quiet except for the repetitive beeping.  He could have done without the beeping.  Lena was asleep in the chair where Callie had been. His eyes rested on the table next to his bed.  The shirt on the golden cub said _bear with me_. He reached for it and was surprised by a sharp pain where a needle and tube were connected to his arm. He moved through the pain and brought the bear to his chest. “Mama?”

            Lena snapped upright. “Jude!” With incredible alacrity she was next to Jude and holding his hands, kissing his head, and repeating “Oh I’m so glad you’re awake!”        

            After the barrage of affection Jude questioned “What happened?”

            “There was an earthquake and it knocked over that Darth Vader statute above your bed.  It hit you square on the head, bubba.”

            “An earthquake? I thought we didn’t get those here?”

            “It’s really rare, and thankfully this wasn't a big one.”

            “It was big enough for me.” Jude said wearily. “How long was I out for?”

             Lena’s face grew concerned, clearly at pains to say “Five days. But you’re going to be fine.”

            “Five days?” Jude asked incredulously. 

            “Yeah, sweetheart.  You got hit in the head pretty bad and there was a lot of swelling in your brain. But the doctors have said they expect you to make a full recovery.  You might miss the first week of school, but you’ll be up and about in no time.” 

            Jude could tell that Lena was trying to make him feel good by the perkiness of her tone, and though he could hear her sincerity, he still caught an undercurrent of nervousness.  “I feel like you’re not telling me everything.” He said.

            She paused and adjusted her weight to be more firmly on the bed. She grabbed Jude’s hands “Well, you needed surgery to relieve the swelling in your brain.”           

Jude immediately tried to feel his head, but Lena kept a firm grip and held his hands down.

            “No, no, no!” Lena said quickly but gently. “You have some stitches up there that need some time to heal, so don’t touch them.”

"Is it bad?" Jude asked in a thin whimper.

            Lena shored up her features to appear strong.  "It’s not too serious.  They had to shave your head, but the doctor said the scarring won't be too visible when your hair grows back." She massaged Jude's arms.

            “Can I see?” Jude asked, looking around the hospital room for a mirror.

            “In a little bit when you’re ready to get up.”

            “I’m ready to get up.” Jude said, but he wasn't really sure of that.

            “Not yet kiddo. Maybe a little later today. Right now you just need to focus on staying awake and talking.” She said, assuring Jude with her smile. “One step at a time.”

            Jude just shook his head and looked at the bear cub in his hands.  _Bear with me_.  He looked back up at Lena.  "I was out for five days?"

           "Just about."

           "Is everyone else okay?"

           "Everyone is fine. You just got really unlucky."

            Jude was having difficulty winding his mind around the notion of having completely missed five whole days.  He looked back down at the bear cub.  Connor.

           "Have you heard from Connor? He’s okay, too, right?"

           "He's fine, he was here in the hospital quite a bit."

            "Is he coming today?"

            "I don't think so, honey." Lena bit her lip and shook her head almost imperceptibly. "Adam is driving Connor to LA this morning."

             He ticked the days off on his fingers.  That was it.  The sound he emitted was like a tiny squeeze toy being slowly crushed in the mouth of a dog.  He sucked his lips in between his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.  He was doing his best to return to the comfortable darkness he had only just left.  Despite the vice-grip strength he was using to block out the world, the tears escaped and ran down his face like his own little Tigris and Euphrates.

            Lena continued to massage his arms, offering sympathetic tears. “He was here every day, sweetie.”   

            It was poor recompense.  He had been robbed.  Why couldn't he have had this one thing? This one goddamn thing.  It was shit enough that Adam was a weak, emotionally stunted man, but now Jude's last week with Connor had been stolen from him by Adam, fate, and the bust of Darth Vader.  There really isn’t anything to be said about plate tectonics, but as far as Jude was concerned, Adam and Vader were in competition for the title of world’s shittiest father.


	2. Chapter 2

          Jude circled his hands lightly around the top of his head, skimming the path where the stitches had been, feeling the scar tissue with his fingertips.  He tried to angle himself in front of the mirror to get a better view, but it's hard to see the top of your own head without assistance.  He briefly considered calling for help, but it was too much effort.  He ran through the scenario a couple of times in his head.  He needed someone to hold the hand mirror.  He had done this before, and each time he had someone different come in to hold help, and each time he said he hadn’t really looked at them yet.  But he wanted to keep looking.  He had finally run through everyone in the house. He didn’t want them to think he was being obsessive.

          It had been six days since he returned home from the hospital.  The first thing he did was shove that bronze-headed asshole underneath his bed.  The second thing he did was Skype Connor.  That conversation led to a couple of moments Jude was doing his utmost to purge from his memory, but with very little success.  After that, he moped about the house like the walking dead. 

          At first in the hospital and now at home, his family had been very supportive and they condoled with him about his injuries and about missing Connor.  Now, nearly two weeks after having finally emerged from his torpor, it was obvious that his moody and, even he had to admit, petulant behavior was wearing thin on the other Adams-Fosters.  No, he would not be calling anyone for yet another examination of his scars.

          He stared into the mirror.  He really didn’t know how to get over this.  Connor was occupying every corner of his mind.  He would get distracted from time to time, but every conversation, every interaction, eventually wound back to either his scars or Connor. His moms had begun to express their concerns delicately, but Callie had been more forthright.  It was an afternoon that played in his mind on a loop.

          “You need to end this obsession.”  Callie said sternly. “It’s not healthy.” 

          Jude had developed a resentment of her mothering.  The feeling had been planted back when Callie was operating under the assumption that Connor was a bad influence, and had only grown since. He had a mother. Two of them, actually, and that was enough for anyone.  He didn’t need to hear this from her.  “It’s not an obsession.  This is my life.” He made a point to match Callie’s authoritative tone.

          “But it’s not the only part of your life, Jude!” Callie pleaded.

          “It’s the only part I care about!” The words were said before he could really consider them. It wasn’t true, but it had the intended effect.  Callie made an about-face and left his room.  He regretted it almost immediately, but made no attempt to follow her. Not two hours later he was in the back yard on the bench sobbing with Lena.  Again. 

          “Callie told me what you said about not caring about anything in your life but Connor.” As always, her hands graced his spine.  “Is that really true?”

          “No.” He loved her hand on his back.  It was like a balm that made it easier to talk. “It’s just- it hurts. It hurts so much. And I don’t know what to do.”

          “Okay. I know you miss Connor, and I know that you’ve said it’s not the same, but you talk to him every day. Doesn’t that help?”

          He knew it should help, but it didn’t really.  The time spent on Skype, or texting, or calling and just listening to his voice was relieving, but the relief ended with the conversation. “Yes and no.” Jude sighed.  “It’s just that I keep feeling like I’m never going to see him in person again.”

          His internal cinema was interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door.  Jesus. 

          “Come on little bro! Other people have to use the bathroom!”

          Jude looked at the mirror one last time, expelled the air from his lungs, and unlocked the door. “Sorry.  Got a little lost in thought.”

          “No thinking in the bathroom!” Jesus barked as he thrust Jude out into the hallway.

          Jude thudded back to his room.  He sat and put on his socks, thinking of how things could have been different. If only Adam wasn’t such an asshole.  He looked back up at the Star Wars poster above his bed.  Now there was a dysfunctional family.  At least Connor’s father wasn’t actively trying to kill him.  Well, Vader wasn’t really trying to kill Luke—he was trying to convert him to the dark side. Jude laughed to himself. Adam had basically been trying to convert Connor to the straight side. His mind wandered to the batting cages.  He could almost hear Adam saying “Let the straight flow through you.  Use your straight to strike down the ball!”

          “Dude, what are you laughing at?” Jesus questioned as he burst into the room.

          Jude snapped back to reality. “Oh, uh, nothing.” He said hastily.  He reached to the floor and tried to slide his shoes on.  The shoelaces were already in knots and his foot wouldn’t fit.  He sat for a moment struggling to untie the laces. He emptied his lungs of air again, trying to stave off the frustration and anxiety.  He did not want to go to school.  Jude pried at the knots.  He didn’t understand how people grew out of wearing Velcro strap shoes. 

          Jude eventually triumphed over the knots and made his way to breakfast. He stared at his cereal, prodding the last of the corn puffs down into the milk.  They kept popping back up.  “How do you do it, little corn puffs?” He mumbled to the cereal. He drained the bowl into his mouth. At the bottom were the remnants of a few bloated, half-dissolved puffs that had succumbed to the milk. “Same.” He said, scooping them into the trash.    

          “Does your cereal ever talk back?” Marianna queried playfully.

          Jude froze, holding the spoon and bowl over the trash like he had just been caught holding a murder weapon.  He hadn’t even noticed her sit down.  For the third time this morning, he completely voided his lungs.  It wasn’t even seven-thirty in the morning on his first day back at school, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the door, let alone the day.

          He had been dreading this eventuality since he left the hospital.  The prospect of facing schoolwork and whatever torment his peers could imagine had been sitting in sitting in his stomach for days. Like everything else recently, it would be worse without Connor.  In science class they had learned that Jupiter’s gravity well acted like a sort of cosmic shield for Earth.  It tended to suck up a great deal of debris that might otherwise collide with our planet. Connor had been at his side for most of last year and the whole summer.  He had been Jude’s personal Jupiter at school.  Connor, like Jupiter, was also quite gassy. He snorted.

          “Uh, Earth to Jude.” Mariana said from the kitchen table.

          “What?” Jude said.  He tried to make normal as he put the bowl and spoon in the sink. 

          “Girl, you need to get yourself together.” She cheerfully admonished. 

          “Yeah.” Jude replied softly.  He grabbed his bag and his hat and headed out the door.  He needed to walk.  He had found that walking was a good way to improve his mood.  It gave him a sense of purpose that allowed him to focus.  He stepped out onto the porch, slung his bag over his shoulder, and forced himself down to the sidewalk. 

          The thought of Adam as Darth Vader was funny to him, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him that there were some remarkable similarities between Vader and Adam, and of his own story with Connor.  Connor had been shuffled off to some awful desert—L.A. was as to Mos Eisley, a hive of scum an villainy—to hide him from his father’s terrible parenting, just like Luke Skywalker.  Would that make Connor’s mom Obi-wan or Aunt Beru?  And who was Leia? Maybe he was Leia? He had felt rather rescued by Connor.  No, he and Connor kissed and touched and—no, definitely not.  Siblings can't be in love like that.  Jude resolved that he would be Obi-wan.  Maybe he could train his Luke to overcome his father? But who was his Yoda? He would have to come back to that.  Han and Chewie? That was easy- Taylor and Daria.  It's a pity they didn't actually own a space ship.  And what episode were they in? That was the tough part.  Where were they in the story arc? It was definitely well past number three. The Empire Strikes Back? Maybe that was where they were.   

            Jude was nearing the school and he saw a couple of his classmates down the road.  He slowed his normally brisk pace to avoid catching up to them.  He took a deep breath, adjusted his bag, and slid into one of the memories that had been plaguing him.

          The wifi in the hospital had been spotty at best, so Jude was thrilled by the prospect of seeing Connor’s face for the first time since the night of the earthquake. In no time at all Connors face popped up on the screen.  His usually bright features seemed tempered.

          "Hey!" Jude chirped, not outwardly acknowledging the slight shade in Connor’s eyes.

          "Hey." Connor answered through an obviously forced grin.

          This could not be ignored. "What's wrong?"

          "So, I don't think I can come down next weekend."

          "Why?"

          "A couple reasons. I guess soccer tryouts are going on and my dad thinks I need to be up here for at least a month before I come back."

          "Maybe I can come up to you?"

          Connors head sunk.  "I think our moms agreed that we should be apart for a little bit."

          "What?!" Jude could handle a lot- the taunts and jeers of his classmates, a state system that seemed out to crush his family, rumors and conjecture.  This, however, was beyond the pale.  "They can't do that!" Of course they can, silly boy. "I'm going to talk to them and make them let us see each other."

          Connor smirked "Good luck, my mom didn't even want to discuss it."

          The boys continued their conversation for some time before the hum of am engine could be heard in the driveway.  Jude was standing up and then he was down at the front door with terrifying celerity.

          Lena had no idea what she was about to walk into.  She fumbled with her keys for a moment as the scarf tied to her bag caught on her arm.  Put key in. Turn. Open the door.  The foyer was usually vacant, but today it was occupied by Jude—so much taller than before, but still small.  He had the voice of a teenager but the face of a little boy.  The blood in his veins was coloring his face more than the slight tan he had acquired over the summer.  He looked like a small, frightened creature ready to attack against all odds.

          "Why can't I see Connor?!" Jude yelled, clenching his fists.

          Lena was staggered by the intensity of the inquisition.  The virulence of his tone combined with his aggressive stance would have worried Lena had Jude's eyes not betrayed to her the fact that underneath the blustering and rage, Jude was still a scared little boy.  The threat being instantly assessed as nonexistent, Lena felt very free to address the content underlying the tears that were now swelling Jude's eyes.  "Jude, what are you talking about?" She dropped her bag on the floor.

          "You know damn well! You're not going to let me see Connor anymore! You were never going to! Admit it!"

          "No one ever said that, Jude! Now where are you getting this from?"

          "I talked to Connor.  She told him that you guys decided we can't see each other." Jude collapsed onto his knees.

          "Listen bubba, we never decided that you couldn’t ever see each other again. We agreed it's a good idea that you and Connor have some weekends apart-"

          "This is such bullshit!"

          "Jude!" Lena snapped.  Her face was like thunder. "Get a grip!”

          Jude recognized that he had just crossed a line.  And now, on top of being angry and frustrated, he was feeling embarrassed and guilty.  He slumped farther to the floor.

          Lena’s face softened, returning to its usually gentle demeanor.  “I know that this is going to be difficult, but you have to have some time to adjust to being apart.”

          “Why? I-I d-don’t get it.” Jude said in a staccato.   

          She sat down on the stairs just above Jude. “Being separated from the people you love is really tough, I know, but sometimes there is nothing that can be done about it-“

          Jude cut her off. “But something can be done-”

          “Hold on Jude, let me finish.” She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you and Connor can see each other for a weekend now and then, but you still have to live in the other weekends and days of the week that you can’t be together. You need to learn how to live without each other.”

          “But I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

          Lena sat up a little straighter. “Jude, you can still talk to him.” Frustration was creeping up in her tone.

          “It’s not the same.” Jude could feel his own anger and frustration returning to dominate the guilt and embarrassment. 

          “No, it isn’t, but this is the way it’s going to be, and it’s something you need to learn how to handle.”

          “But when can I go see him?”

          “We are going to play that by ear.”

          The sound of congregating students yanked Jude back to the here and now. He walked past his mom’s car, parked in her reserved spot near the entrance to the school.  The anxiety he felt from the conversation he had with Lena mounted on top of the anxiety he felt about going in the school door.

          The rug had been pulled out from underneath him by that conversation.  There had been so many promises in his life, so many things that had been uncertain.  With each new foster family, the promise of a new life and a permanent home. Each one vanquished in turn by the irresponsibility of somebody else.  Each time he would be consoled by the social workers, and they would make the same promises over and over.  We will find you a home, they said.  People love you, they said.  No matter how much he believed that his moms loved him—and he did—the string of broken promises by every other adult in his life only led him to expect the worst.  This, he feared, was just the beginning of the latest iteration of people letting him down.  The exceptional had returned to the normal.  He opened the door to the school.  Out of the frying pan and into the fire. 


	3. Chapter 3

          Jude adjusted his hat as he walked through the doors.  It was too hot to be wearing a beanie, but that was all he had to conceal the scars. He had no idea what to expect from the other kids.  His anxiety about what sort of reaction he was going to have to endure was eating at him, and this was to be the moment of truth.  He knew from the occasional text from Taylor that there had been some talk of him and Connor.  It seemed that their absence from the corridors had not gone unnoticed. Taylor had mentioned it was an occasional subject conversation in the hallways and on social media.  For his part, Jude had never really been one to keep up a real online presence, and Taylor had conveyed enough for him to know that he didn’t want to start now.

          Jude was grateful that Taylor, whom he had basically abandoned over the summer, was not the sort to hold a grudge.  He felt the abandonment was eminently fair on some level—after all she was the one that outed them in the first place.  She welcomed the return of his friendship nevertheless and Jude was happy to have a comrade at school.  He also somewhat guiltily hoped that in addition to companionship Taylor would be able to act as a replacement buffer between him and the other kids. That would remain to be seen. In any event, she was just on the other side of the door waiting for him.

          “Jude!” Taylor yelped as she ran at him.

          Jude had only a second to brace himself for Taylor’s running-start hug. “Hey Taylor.” Jude said, returning her friendly embrace.  He was more relieved than he thought he would be. 

          Taylor let go and swept her hair behind her ears.  “So…how are you?”

          “I’m okay.” Jude lied through his teeth.

          “That’s obviously bullshit, but I’ll let it go for now.” Taylor remarked in an offhand manner. “Let’s get you to your locker.”

          They traipsed through the hallway together.  Jude offered up a description of his accident, the time in the hospital, and his general malaise about the Connor situation.  Taylor returned sympathetic sighs and a brief summary of the first week of school.  Jude fidgeted with his locker as Taylor spoke, staring into the empty metal box. It would soon be filled with half-used notebooks, old pencils shaved down to uselessness, and the forgotten, crumpled remains of in-class handouts.  Taylor’s voice was now like a hum in the background as he thought back to that afternoon on the bench with Lena.

          “It’s just that I keep feeling like I’m never going to see him again.” Jude said with his hands between his knees and his spine bent forward. “I never expected you guys to do something like this.”

          “Jude, sweetheart, you’re going to get to see him again.  I promise.  It’s just a matter of time.” Lena reassured him.

          “But when?” Jude could only try to coax a time out of her, to get a date that he could count on, to get a guarantee. 

          “I said we would play it by ear.”

          “I don’t get that.  What do you mean?”

          “Honestly, whenever it looks like you can handle being apart.  We need to know that seeing him isn’t going to set you back to square one here.”

          This was not the promise he was looking for. “What did I do to deserve this? What did I do wrong?”

          “Oh Jude, it’s not about deserving or being wrong.  It’s that you need to be strong on your own now. Connor can’t be the end-all and be-all of your life.  I know you’re hurting and struggling right now, but you need time to find it in you to cope with everyday life without Connor at your side all the time. And the same goes for Connor.”

          Jude could tell Lena had a difficult time saying that, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He didn’t know how was he supposed to deal with missing Connor, finding a way to get him back to San Diego, and the inevitable horror show that was about to happen at school, all the while trying to convince his moms that he had the ability to do any of it. He sat up straight and forced a smile on his face, cheering through his sobs “See! I’m fine! I can’t wait to go to school and be normal! Maybe I’ll try out for the baseball team! They’ve got an open spot, don’t you know!”       

          Lena scooped him into her arms as he collapsed—yet again—into tears.  Despite the fact that she was partly to blame for the misery he was feeling, he took comfort in her arms and her consoling whispers. It is a strange power that mothers have to be simultaneously the source of such agony and the cradle of strength that helps to overcome it.

          “Leave him alone, Griffin.” Taylor snapped.

          Jude awoke from his daydream to find Taylor squaring off with the living paragon of the word nuisance, Griffin Thornberry.  His hand was alarmingly close to plucking Jude’s beanie from his head. Jude ducked underneath his locker door and slammed it shut. “What the hell, Griffin? Don’t do shit like that.” Jude snapped.  Jude suspected Griffin wasn’t acting maliciously. He just had no sense of boundaries, which Jude definitely had a problem with given that his own set of boundaries were about the size of Versailles.

          “Dude, I just wanted to see your hat.  You’ve never worn a hat before.”  Griffin paused, peering awkwardly around Jude’s head. “Did you shave off your hair?”

          "Yes, Griffin" Jude said, annoyed "I shaved my head."

          "Can I see it?" Griffin asked excitedly.

          "It's not that interesting, Griffin." Jude said condescendingly, placing special emphasis on his name.  Jude was not eager to continue this conversation.  He expected there would be some emotional tourism coming down the pike regarding Connors departure, and that would be enough to handle.  He didn't want to add the spectacle of his physical scars as an incentive for his classmates to focus on him.

          "Drop it." Taylor added, cutting off what appeared to be second attempt by Griffin to examine Jude's head and head-related accessories.

          Griffin stalked off disappointed.  The first period of the day passed without incident.  Jude attributed this to having found a seat in the back corner of the classroom.  This was not to be the case throughout the day, as he would discover in his second-period history class. 

          Jude had settled into yet another safe-looking corner when she came into the room.  She was Marissa Hornblower, the queen bee, a person who made an obvious attempt at appearing older, wiser, and more experienced than she could possibly be.  And she had scanned the room and found Jude.  Her eyes were bright with hunger for the taste of fresh, meaty conversation filled with blood and secrets.  And it became apparent that she was now overjoyed as she approached Jude's seat.  This was where Jude realized his error—he should have waited to see where people were sitting before picking a spot. 

          Marissa sat down next to him.  "OMG! I can't believe we're sitting next to each other!" She said, baring her teeth.  The seats around him began filling in.  He noticed Taylor in the door.  They made momentary eye contact.  The message was clear- I'm so sorry and I would love to help but there is literally nothing that can be done now.

          "So where's Connor?" Marissa asked pointedly.

          Jude thought there was no way she didn't know, but he had to answer.

          "LA" Jude choked out quietly.

          "Forever?" Marissa gasped.  She adjusted her loose-fitting knit shirt back up over her shoulder.  It was the kind that Callie so often wore.

          Jude could taste the bile climbing the walls of his esophagus.  "It's not forever."  He was lying to himself as much as anybody else.

          "Oh, when is he coming back?"

          She sounded like she knew something, but Jude couldn't see what that something was. "I uh…don't know."

          "So it could be forever." Marissa said, as if she was correcting Jude's earlier statement.

          "It's not forever." Jude said raising his voice.

          "What's not forever?" The excited inquiry originated from a one Heather Carver.  She was now leaning across the aisle toward Marissa and Jude.

          Marissa swiveled toward Heather, mouth ready to run on. "You know Connor Stevens?" Marissa asked.

          Jude thought that was an insane question given that he would have been in this very class with them.

          Heather fanned herself and said "Of course I know him. Such a hottie."

          Jude crooked an eyebrow at Heather.   Connor had not so much as acknowledged her existence before, and suddenly she knows him?

          "Well," Marissa continued, "he's apparently run off to LA."

          "I heard about that!" Heather said breathlessly. "Wasn't it because his dad was abusing him like all the time? Like, Geoff was saying that his dad beat him up a bunch over the summer. "

          "His dad was not beating him up!" Jude blurted out.  He couldn't believe he was in the position of defending Adam of all people.

          "Are you sure, Jude?" Heather interjected. "I heard that's why he had that gash on his eye last year.”

          "He's my boyfriend, I would know." Jude said, annoyed.

          Marissa clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Is he really your boyfriend anymore now that he’s left?"

          Jude was about to offer a full throated defense of his relationship when the bell rang and the teacher brought the class to attention.  He couldn't decide whether it was a blessing or a curse.  Certainly, he was happy that conversation was over.  On the other hand, the conversation ended with a doubt about him and Connor, and enough people had overheard that it was no doubt going to be a problem down the road.  Whatever the consequence, nothing could be done about it now.

 

***

 

          Jude walked outside carrying his lunch tray, still miserable from his morning classes. He never got the opportunity to correct Marissa, which he fumed about all during science the next period. He tried to cut off the rumors of the demise of his relationship by starting a discussion with his lab partner, Aiden, about how he had met his boyfriend Connor in science class. Emphasis on boyfriend, present tense. Aiden’s response was a look of horror and a short, loud “I’m not gay.” In retrospect, Jude realized that was a really odd conversation starter with a boy he hardly knew.

          He wasn't walking long before he found that an unfamiliar group of 7th graders had usurped his favorite lunch table.  At first he wanted to pull rank as a mighty 8th grader, but then he thought better of the idea.  It wouldn't do to be laughed off.  And besides, he wanted to find Taylor.

          He scanned the tables and saw her sitting with Daria.  He was about halfway there when Griffin cruised up beside him.

          "Hey Jude."

          "Hi."

          "Need someone to sit with?"

          Jude hasted his approach to where Taylor and Daria were sitting. "No, I'm sitting with them." He gestured at the table with his elbow.

          "Oh. Okay." Griffin stood there awkwardly.  

          Jude sighed and, looking down at his sad sandwich trapped in its plastic container, said "you can sit with us if you want."

          Jude stole a glance at Taylor. She wore a tiny smirk.  Jude returned a dismissive eye-roll.  "Hey, Daria!" He said cheerfully, indicating that they were to continue as if there wasn't an interloper in their midst.

          "Welcome back!" She replied.  She sipped her drink and studied Griffin. "I think we all have English together next period."

          The group murmured in the affirmative.  There were some remarks about the weather, their reading list for the semester, and whatever else passes for staving off awkward silence.  But the lull in conversation came anyway. And then Griffin brought up the subject that had essentially been the reason small talk had been the only talk. “Is it true that Connor moved away?”

          “Yes, Griffin.” Jude droned.

          “Is it because he broke up with you?” Griffin asked through the turkey sandwich in his mouth.

          “We did not break up! Jesus Christ!” Jude cursed, eyeing Griffin.

          “Wait, so why did he move?” Griffin replied curiously.

          Taylor mumbled “oh my god” and looked down at the table, bracing her temples with her fingers.

          “Why is that a stupid question? I want to know.”

          Jude took a swig of his juice.  Then he took a deep breath.  He needed it. “It’s not a stupid question, Griffin, it’s just none of your business.” Jude said, hoping his declaration would end the inquiry. 

          “Okay, sorry.” Griffin said quietly.  He chewed the remainder of his sandwich.  He swallowed and cocked his head, “but-“

          “Enough, Griffin!” Daria exclaimed, cutting him off.  She was staring at him wide-eyed, shaking her head in disbelief.

          They returned to small talk for the rest of lunch.  Griffin added very little else, except to show approval for someone else's comments.  Despite the unpleasant nature of Griffin’s callous and/or stupid questioning, it had raised an important point for Jude.  He had yet to think of what he was going to tell people of why Connor had moved. He definitely wasn't about to explain Connor’s family dynamics.  It made him slightly ill.  There would be time to figure that out soon enough.  The bell had rung and he needed to get to class.

 

***

 

          After English Jude was faced with the a very real choice.  He could run away and join a drug cartel or he could go to gym class.  He weighed his options seriously and decided that however appealing smuggling drugs was in the face of phys-ed, he probably wasn't cut out for running from the police. 

          It wasn't that he hated physical activity.  He snorted.  That was a huge lie.  He hated everything about it.  It exposed everything that he was insecure about.  He was a terrible athlete, he could not care less about sports, and the prospect of changing in the locker room was terrifying.  It's one thing to change in a locker room as an out gay kid when you've got Connor at your side.  It's another thing to do it on your own.

          He pushed the swinging door into the locker room.  It smelled of damp socks and boys whose parents had yet to imply to their sons that the time was ripe for applying deodorant.  Jude chose a bench off in the corner of the room.  He was thankful that this group of boys appeared just as tentative as him about changing clothes in front of everyone.  Jude did not delay. In several fluid movements his jeans and t-shirt were replaced by athletic shorts and a shirt of some unknown quick-dry material. 

          He shoved his clothes and bag into the locker, kicked it shut, and trudged through the door into the gymnasium.   Griffin was already sitting on the bleachers, his twiggy legs dangling out of shorts that could have easily been used to conceal nearly his entire body.  

          "Hey Jude!" Griffin said, far too happily for Jude's taste.

          Jude gave a short wave and proceeded to sit down about ten feet away from Griffin.  

          "Are we supposed to be over there?" Griffin asked, sliding down the entire bench toward Jude.  

          Jude shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea." 

          A stream of boys came trickling out off the locker room, then in a large clump just as the bell rang.  They were followed by the gym teacher, Mr. Manstein.  He was one of the only teachers that did not allow students to address him by his first name.  His head was attached to his torso less by a neck and more by a steeply graded meat pile.  It was easy to see that he had been a mass of highly defined muscle at one point, and though there was still evidence of fitness, he had grown soft.  It was like he had been wrapped in a thick layer of fondant.  

          Jude was so fixated by this that he didn't notice the seats around him being filled by the other boys.  Nor that Manstein blew his whistle, quieting the gym.  Nor that he had begun taking attendance.  In fact he was totally shocked when Griffin elbowed him in the ribs just as Manstein was glowering in his direction and yelling "Adams-Foster!" 

          He was obviously startled as he squeezed out a "Jude." That was not the right word.  And his voice had cracked.  This was enough to get the whole class laughing.  Jude heard some distinct laughing, vicious laughing, as someone behind him coughed out *homo* cough *homo*.  More jeering.  It was only a couple of kids, but for Jude it felt like an army.  Despite how obvious it was, Manstein ignored it and blew his whistle to get them quiet.  So much for a zero tolerance policy.  Maybe this guy should grab some drinks with Adam.  

          Jude started to phase out again when he heard "Stevens, Connor." For a fraction of a second he hoped Connor was there, and that he would hear his voice say "here."  Instead, all he heard was Manstein say louder "Stevens!" Manstein rotated his face/neck and as he asked "anyone seen Stevens?" There was silence from the class.  Manstein huffed and half jogged into the locker room, presumably to find his missing student.  

          "Don't know where your lover boy is, Foster?" Jude turned to look at the origin of the voice, though he knew it was Lamb Wespe-Shell.  "Did he run to mommy in LA?" 

          He had been the one at the beach early in the summer that had pressed Jude and Connor about their relationship.  And though he had been low key over the summer, now that Connor was gone it looked like Lamb's willingness to keep his commentary to himself had up and left as well.  Jude suppressed the urge to leap at him and claw his eyes out, mostly because he knew he would both lose and be blamed for it.  

          Manstein returned from the locker room, scribbling something on his clipboard.  "Okay! Today we're running track!" There was an audible, class-wide groan.  At least they all had that in common.  They all trudged out to the track and started running.  For better or worse, he fell into step with Griffin.  After several laps—what felt like a half marathon at the very least—Jude noticed Lamb and a couple of his feckless cronies stop off for a moment at the bright orange water cooler and take a drink.  Jude ran by him.  Several moments later he heard Lamb’s voice next to him. 

          "So, do you wear a diaper now?" Lamb asked. 

          Jude glanced at him quickly.  He couldn't fathom where this was going so he said nothing.  He could sense Lamb’s little crew was nearby, eager to watch the encounter.    
          "I mean, Stevens had his dick in your ass all summer, so like, it’s all stretched out and you probably can't keep your shit in, right?" 

          Jude was dumbstruck by the stupidity of the comment.  The boys around him apparently had a less developed sense if wit; they had burst into a group exclamation of "ooooh shit!" 

          He knew it shouldn't have hurt him, but it did.  He just ran faster, away from the lazy pack of hyenas.  It was better than stopping and letting the pain get to him.  Jude looked to his side.  Griffin had kept pace.

          After what felt like an eternity, Manstein blew his whistle, signaling the end of running.  He was conflicted about what to do next.  He could book it to the locker room in the hopes of changing and getting out of there before Wespe got a chance to say or do something, or he could take his time and hope that Wespe would be finished and gone before he got in there.  Neither was foolproof.  It would be super obvious if he sprinted off to the locker room, and Wespe could certainly catch up.  He could wait around, but so could Wespe, and then Jude would be both subject to abuse and late for his next class.  Jude decided to split the difference- a brisk walk ahead of Wespe, and if it looked like he was following, he would just grab his bag and change in a bathroom later.  

          Jude broke away and made it to the locker room before anyone else.  He changed with as much speed as he could, and was stuffing his gym clothes on his bag when the other boys burst into locker room.  He made for the door, but not before he heard Lamb’s distinctive nasally voice "are you the woman in the relationship now?" Jude glanced behind him to see Lamb addressing Griffin, the pack surrounding him. 

          "I'm not gay!" Griffin yelled defensively.  

          Jude was paralyzed.  He couldn't deal with this, but he didn't want to leave Griffin to the hyenas either. Wespe turned and met Jude's gaze.  Jude could see the hamster wheel of Wespe’s mind slowly creaking around.  There was no way he was sticking around for this.  Jude pivoted on his heels and headed out into the hallway.

          The door swung shut and he was alone.  The laughter emanating from the locker room triggered an immense sense of relief from having escaped. It was quickly followed by a slap of guilt.  Griffin didn't deserve that kind of torment.  He could be annoying, but today the only thing he had done was stick by Jude.  He suppressed his nausea, turned, and strode right back into the locker room.  

          He looked at the pack of boys surrounding Griffin.  He didn't know what he was going to do to stop it.  He wished he could.  "Knock it off, Wespe!" Jude snarled.  He caught Griffin's surprised expression out of the corner of his eye.  Wespe smirked.  Jude had their attention, but now that he had it he had no clue what to do with it.  He thumbed the straps of his backpack.  

          Then, for the first time since he had arrived at Anchor Beach, Jude was relieved to see the bulky mass of Manstein lumbering through the door.  "Boys!" He barked. "This isn't the time or place for shenanigans!" The intervention was welcome, but the level of cluelessness was astonishing to Jude.  "Get yourselves changed and out your next period." 

          Jude briefly contemplated approaching Griffin, but he decided against it.  Nothing could be said or done now that wouldn't make him or Griffin even bigger targets the next time Lamb and his cohort turned their attention to either of them.  Once again, he walked out of the locker room. He resolved to never go in there again.


	4. Chapter 4

          By the time his last class was over, Jude was quite ready to hide in his bedroom.  Despite several sideways looks from his teacher, he began shoving his possessions into his bag a full ten minutes ahead of the bell.  He was up and out of the classroom door before the bell had finished ringing.  He was out of the building and off of school grounds before anyone could see or speak to him.  He was in his house, on the floor of his room, curled up in a ball and clutching a pillow to his chest for a full 30 minutes before anyone else came home.

          The sounds of his family gradually filled the house, but Jude laid silently for most of the afternoon, drifting in and out of daydreams.  The day's memories would float up and he would drown them out with thoughts of Connor.  He summoned sweet memories of being curled up on the couch, fingers knotted and kneading, eyelashes brushing high on his cheek.  Then the laughing pack of hyenas cornering Griffin as Jude stood by powerless, unable to lift a finger to help.  Lifting a finger meant lifting the world and Jude was not Atlas.  

          He opened his eyes and He looked at his clock, patiently waiting for the hands to read five o'clock.  That was when Connor would be home.  Just as he had been at Anchor Beach, Connor was tied to sports.  And the sports required that he stay at school late. Fucking sports.  The worst of it was that it seemed like Connor was making friends and moving on.

          Jude hated himself for thinking that, but there the feeling sat, like an acid eating away the flesh between his ears.  He wanted Connor to be happy, he did.  He just wanted to be the source of it.  It was so selfish, that feeling, and Jude knew he deserved to feel so alone.  He crowded out the thought with a reminiscence of Connor’s soft hands on his face.

          At five o’clock sharp he propped up his tablet and called Connor.  A mop of blonde hair appeared on the screen.  Just the hair.  

          "Hi Connor!" Jude said. The hair stayed in place.  Connor was rustling with something in his lap. "Umm, what are you doing?"

          "It's a surprise." Connor said, raising a finger to ward off further questioning.  Whatever it was, Jude could tell he was having some trouble with it. "Fucking case." Connor mumbled. "Okay, ready?"

          "I guess?" Jude laughed, not sure what to expect. 

          Connor popped up. 

          "Oh my god Connor, glasses? That was the surprise?" Jude giggled.

          "Do you like them?"

          Jude studied his face.  The rectangular shape and thick black lines framed his face beautifully.  They served as a nice counterbalance to the roundness of his cheeks and the height of his brow.   "You look great." Jude smiled.  He wanted to reach through the screen and be held. "It's a good look for you." His stomach was in a knot, bursting at the seams, trying to escape.

          "Thanks! My mom helped to pick them out." Connor scratched the back of his head. "So..., how was your first day back?" He said slowly.

          Jude didn't want to burden Connor with a recitation of the day's torture.  "It was okay." He sighed.

          "Why are you lying to me?" Connor asked gently.

          "I want to die." Jude whimpered.  The tears were already down to his jaw line.

          "Don't say that." Connor whispered, running his hands and through his hair. "What happened?"

          Jude relayed the events of the day to Connor.  His run-in with Marissa, the rumors, Lamb.  Everything.

          "Why don't you tell your mom about Wespe?" Connor implored.

          "You know what she said.  I need to be able to handle this myself." Jude said sadly. "Besides, what's going to change? If it's not Wespe it'll be someone else." Jude had yet to realize that some problems are not backed by an army. 

          "What about Taylor?" Connor asked.

          "What about her?" Jude said, rubbing his eyes free of tears.

          "She's still your friend." Connor said hopefully.

          "Yeah. And hey, Griffin is there for me, too!" Jude chuckled.

          Connor rolled his eyes. "Oh good god.  Don't cheat on me, now." Connor jokingly admonished.

          Jude crooked an eyebrow and lifted half a lip to sneer.  "I had a rough day, but I'm not that desperate."

          "Oh hey, I almost forgot!" Connor grabbed something else off his desk.  "We learned how to do something cool in art class today!" He continued shuffling through his stuff.  He held up a small picture and held it to the screen.  It was a line drawing of Jude and Connor.

          "Holy shit, Connor! That's really, really good! You never told me you were such a good artist."

          Connor laughed demurely."I'm not, really.  We've been learning how to do, like, handmade photoshop stuff."

          "What?"

          "So like, you take some pictures and cut them up into a collage, then you trace it." He shoved the drawing up to the camera again. "For this one I took a bunch of different pictures of us and made it look like we were swing dancing." He said proudly.

          "That's awesome!"

          "I thought we could do some of these together.  You know, we each do one and trade."

          "I like that, but I don't know if mine will be any good."

          "Just give it a try, it's not that hard, really.  It just takes some work.  And if we can't find a picture we need, we can just take it."

          Jude heard a faint voice emanating from behind Connor.  Connor turned his head away from the screen.  "I gotta go, dinner time."

          "Okay." Jude replied. "I love you." He said quietly.

          "I love you, too." He replied tenderly.

          They both lingered for a moment just looking at each other.

          "Jude?"

          "Yeah?"

          "You weren't serious about wanting to die, right?" Connor asked somberly.

          "No. I just don't like how I'm feeling." He replied truthfully.

          "Good.  I miss you enough as it is."

          "I miss you, too."

          "Love you."

          "Love you, too."

          There was another exchanged smile and then the screen went dark.

 

***

 

          Jude's alarm taunted him from across the room.  It had been placed there as a means of getting him out of bed when it sounded.  His reluctance to rise had gradually been growing stronger since his first day back at school last week. It was Monday again, with all of its promise for a fresh set of unwelcome experiences.

          "Time to get out of bed, love." Stef sang from the hallway.  Jesus had left the door open again.  Jude was sure it was a quiet act of rebellion against Jude's tendency to let the noise of the alarm drone on in the morning.  He wanted nothing more than to curl up underneath his blankets and go back to sleep.

          And so it was this morning as it had been for the last week.  List out of bed, slump in the shower, choke down the cereal, crash through school.  It probably wasn't that bad, but Jude was wallowing in self-pity and from that mire it's hard to see the bright side of anything.  The pestering by Marissa and company, and the bullying by Lamb had continued pretty much unabated.

          Marissa's particular brand of harassment, when it wasn't outright cruelty, was deeply insidious.  There was no topic that couldn't lead to something Jude found mortifying.  And ignoring her was not an option.  There was no rebuff that she couldn't somehow justify as being offensive or undeserved.  This was coupled with an inexorable pursuit of being with him.  She had even deigned to eat lunch with him.  He couldn't figure it out.  It was like she was feeding on him like some sort of vampire that feasted on the psyche instead of blood.

          Her proximity also had the side effect of drawing others into his orbit.  If Marissa was interested, then Heather was interested.  If Marissa and Heather had their eye on something, then you could bet Kylie and Dakota were going to get in on the action.  Kylie would undoubtedly bring along Heather II (The Mouth, as some called her for her massive grin and, perhaps, some other things that were only rumors.  There was mixed opinion on whether she found this funny or not). Heather The Mouth was involved with several cliques, but if she sat somewhere it was certain that the skate rats would flock around her.  The skate rat migration lead to a disruption in the band seating arrangement because Phil and Kurt were an overlapping oddity in the two groups- the band needed guitar players and they were recruited for that purpose.  With the band kids abandoning their spot, there was a brief power struggle between the kids who pretended to smoke pot and the kids who actually smoked pot over who would get to sit at the table with easy access to the really tall bushes.   In essence, over the course of three days the entirety of lunch had been thrown into chaos and then reordered entirely because Marissa wanted to accessorize with a gay boy.

          Jude would have found the great shuffle amusing were it not for the fact that the force behind it was slowly killing him.  For instance, not two days into his re-entry into the middle school morass, the following took place.  

          Jude was minding his own business, trying to sink into his desk and become invisible.  Marissa, imperial as always, strode into class wearing her large hair, so perfectly messy, shirt askew just so, hips waving back and forth as her feet crossed over and over and over, approaching Jude with her mouth agape in pleasure and waving her arms, a wave that set her bangles clinking together like the chains on a poltergeist.  

          "Hey babe!" She said, alighting on the top of her desk. 

          "Hi Marissa." He said, forcing himself to be polite. 

          "So I was talking with Heather," she purred, crossing her legs delicately, "and we think that beanie has to go." 

          "I like my hat." He liked his hat because it covered the circle of scars that crowned his scalp. 

          “Yes, but it's a mistake." She snatched the knitted cotton cap right off of his head before Jude could even think of doing anything about it.  There was a small but audible gasp from the onlookers.

          Jude grabbed the hat back from her and yanked it back down over his head.

          "Oh my god!" Marissa squealed. "What happened? Was that why you were out of school?"

          "Yup." He sighed.  This was not going to be fun.

          "Tell me!"

          "Can we not, please?"

          "You have to tell me." She commanded.

          "Fine. I got hit in the head during the earthquake and I had to have surgery."

          "That's so sad!  To have an injury like that.” She cooed.  “I feel so fortunate that nothing like that ever happened to me.  Can you imagine?  Well, you can, obviously."  She said blithely.  "You have to show Heather.  And those kids that skate without helmets.” She was getting excited.  “Oh my god, you could do such good! You could be, like, a poster boy for head injuries.  You know, like do those PSA things." And on she went, as she was wont to do, a font of outrageous comments. 

          Whatever animus Jude had toward Marissa, it paled in comparison to how he felt about Lamb.  Jude had begun having violent fantasies of lying in wait for Lamb, ambushing him from the bushes with a baseball bat, breaking his fucking legs.  He thought about carrying the box cutter his moms kept in the garage, hoping that Lamb would start some shit and he could slice open the fuckers face.  These thoughts passed quickly, lingering only for a moment before Jude realized it was not something he could ever do.  But they happened, and they came unbidden, and I made him feel ill.  And he blamed it on Lamb, and it made Jude hate him even more.

          The origin of his visceral hatred of Lamb was, of course, what Jude felt was the near constant onslaught of homophobic slurs and comments.  Every time they passed in the hallway it was something.  There were whispered remarks like "homo" and "fag", made in passing when time was short.  If there happened to be a more generous allowance of time, Lamb would really get into it.  He would ask Jude about the last time he sucked off Connor, and what it was like to take a dick in the ass.  If there was little danger of adult intervention, like in the teacher-free zone that was the locker room, Lamb would pantomime sex acts, voicing the parts of Jude and Connor.  The whole experience was degrading, but Jude felt powerless to stop it.

          All in all, Jude felt like he was being buried and crushed.  He was so exhausted by even getting dressed that he had no strength left to even begin confronting his antagonists.  The only things that kept him going were the few real friends he had at school and the little hobby that he had going with Connor.

          Throughout all of this, Taylor, Daria, and Griffin had remained his stalwart companions.  Taylor and Daria, of course, had been his friends before Connor's flight to LA, and the remained so.  The trials and tribulations of Jude and Connor's coming together, and everything that entailed had bonded them all (even if there had been a small summer gap).  If getting shot at together doesn't form a firm connection, nothing will.

          Griffin, on the other hand, was a different story.  He had seemingly come out of nowhere.  That first lunch they had together was the longest they had ever spent together in anything that could be called close company.  Jude's only impression of him before that had been of an awkward kid who made intrusive, though innocent, inquires.  Afterward, as Jude got to know him, Griffin showed himself to be a kind-hearted character that only needed some gentle reminders about tactful conversation.

          Jude had also presumed that Griffin must have had some other friends, but as it turned out he did not.  The discovery had come about spontaneously that weekend, when Jude had been dragged out grocery shopping with Stef—there was a baffling urgency that he “get out of the house and get some fresh air.”  The suggestion became increasingly nonsensical to Jude as he thought about it more.  The only time he would spending outdoors was between the house and the car, and the store and the car. He wondered if the vegetable section of the store counted as a simulacrum of the outdoors, or maybe a sort of farm experience by proxy.  Whatever the case, Jude had found himself strolling alongside Stef in the endless bounty of the supermarket, humming along to the stool-softening jazz floating through the air.

          As it so happened, it appeared that Griffin’s mother had the same idea. They had bumped into each other in the cereal isle.  His mom had the appearance of being high-strung, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she scanned the ingredients on each and every suggestion Griffin made.   She was the kind of person that would make him cut his Honey-nut Cheerios with regular Cheerios as a mandate of some dictatorial health regimen. 

          Jude also noted that Griffin’s awkwardness may have been inherited.  When Griffin and Jude spotted each other they said hello in the manner of so many awkward teenagers.  They nodded to each other, heads mostly down, a quick, quiet “hey.”

          “Who are you talking to, Griffin?” His mother interrogated loudly, only acknowledging Jude’s presence by way of the question.

          “This is Jude, mom.” He said peevishly. 

          “Hi Mrs. Thornberry.” Jude said politely, extending his hand.

          She shook his hand quickly. “You’re the vice-principal’s adopted son, right?” She asked bluntly.

          “Uhh, yeah.” Jude said, now convinced that Griffin was definitely not to blame for his lack of social graces.  Stef rolled up next to Jude with their overflowing carriage.

          “Mom, this is Griffin and his mom, Mrs. Thornberry.” Jude said.

          “Hi, Stef Adams-Foster.” She nodded, shaking the hands of both Griffin and his mother. “You guys have class together?” She asked of Jude and Griffin.

          “Yes, they do. Hasn’t Jude told you?” Mrs. Thornberry cut in.

          Both Jude and Griffin stood in silence, any desire to speak had been squelched by that sense of mortification that tends to arise in kids whose parents are meeting for the first time.  Jude’s embarrassment was amplified by the fact that had not mentioned Griffin to either of his moms, and Griffin had.  To be fair to himself, he also considered that hadn’t said much of anything to them about school.

          “He didn’t,” She said curiously, glancing at Jude. “But he has been a little quiet recently.” She quickly patted Jude’s back. 

          “Oh, I make Griffin tell me everything.  You know how kids are, you have to keep them out of trouble.”  Mrs. Thornberry said with an air of superiority.  

          Jude surmised that Mrs. Thornberry actually knew very little about her son. The last thing Griffin was ever bound to be was trouble.  Certainly not the kind of kid to go out with his friends, toilet-paper someone’s house, break into another house, steal booze, and then get shot at. What kind of a kid would do that?

          “No kidding.” Stef said.  It was clear to Jude that Stef was making a real effort at self-control.  She was not the sort to be trod on by anyone. He didn’t know why she was allowing her parenting to be questioned in this instance. 

          Jude made a snap decision to intercede; having Stef lecture Griffin’s mom in the grocery store was not a thing he wanted to ever see. “Do you want to come over later?” Jude asked Griffin. 

          Griffin puffed up in surprise and delight at having been invited to someone’s house. “Yeah!” He turned to his mom. “Can I?”

          “Sure, if Mrs. Adams-Foster says it’s okay.” She wrung her hands together.

          “Of course! Jude’s friends are always welcome!” Stef said warmly.

          “Oh wonderful. See, Griffin, I told you this would be the year you made some friends!” Mrs. Thornberry said pertly.

          Stef cringed, and Jude saw it.  He felt the same way.  He couldn’t imagine how Griffin was feeling.  Maybe he was used to it?  Whatever the case, Griffin’s feelings on the subject were inscrutable in his demeanor. He just stood there, limply accepting the fact that his mother had just announced to everyone that he was friendless. 

          Stef immediately began making plans for Griffin to be delivered to Jude’s house in several hours.  On the way back to the car, and only after glancing over her shoulder, Stef said “You know I love you sweetheart, but why can’t you make friends with kids who have normal parents?”

          Jude was about to snap at her for the comment, but her expression was disarming. Her upturned eyebrow, her sly smile, everything said that she was sensitive to the fact that a lot of his pain had been the result of terrible parenting.  It was like she was saying it was okay to laugh at the cruelty of the universe.  And for the first time in weeks, he felt like he had caught a breath of fresh air from someone that wasn’t Connor. 

 

***

 

          In between the grocery shopping and the planned arrival of Griffin, Jude set to work on his drawing project with Connor.  He had been collecting various photographs of them together and stitching them into a collage.  He was actually quite pleased so far.  It was of the two of them, spooning on the couch.  It had been a rare treat when that happened.  It certainly wasn’t in the cards for when they were at Connor’s house, and while it would have been tolerated reasonably well at his house, Jude had always felt a twinge of apprehension of being ogled mid-cuddle.  It was a private affair—however innocuous—and so it was reserved for when there was some measure of certitude that they would be left in peace.

          He had just finished gluing the last of Connor’s body parts in place when the doorbell heralded the arrival of Griffin.  Jude bounded down the stairs, skidding across the foyer floor in his fuzzy socks, and opened the door with a flourish of movement.  He was a little astonished at how upbeat he was feeling. Griffin stood on the other side of the doorway, his expression revealing that he, too, was not expecting Jude to be in such high spirits.  Jude welcomed him in.

          Stef and Lena made a brief appearance and made all of the necessary introductions and offers of refreshment.  It was all very polite and congenial.  The boys made their way to Jude’s room.  Jude closed the door behind them.  He let out a short puff of breath.  It had just sunk in that he had no idea what Griffin and he were going to do to pass the time.  It had been easy with Connor.  They had always just fallen into conversation, or picked up a game, or anything. Everything had been easier. Maybe not everything.

          “So, what do you want to do?” Jude asked, hopeful that maybe Griffin would have an idea.

          “I don’t know. What did you usually do with Connor?” Griffin replied, looking about the room, studying the myriad knick-knacks, posters, toys, and baubles that had accumulated there.

          Jude’s jaw dropped. “Ahhh, well…” He wasn’t sure whether Griffin was ignorant as to what boyfriends did together or if he was actually suggesting something. He really hoped it was the former.

          “So what did you guys do together?” Griffin asked again, this time actually looking at Jude.

          Jude was still slightly aghast at the thought of having to answer that question. Griffin stood there expectantly. Jude was starting to regret his decision as merely delaying an uncomfortable social moment. Not entirely though. There was something serene and kind of charming about Griffin’s composure.  It was like he truly didn’t give a fuck about anything. “Can I ask you something Griffin?”

          “Sure!” He said smiling.  He sat down on the floor and began looking through the small collection of books that Jude had stowed underneath his bed.  After the earthquake, anything remotely heavy or sharp had been relegated to the floor.

          “Are you asking me a question or are you making a proposal?” That was the best he could come up with without straight up asking Griffin if he was interested in him.

          Griffin looked up from the books and studied Jude for a moment.  His face slowly transformed from confounded to consternation.  “Oh shit. No. I um…no.  I didn’t mean anything like that.  I’m not gay.  I mean, it’s cool that you are, but not me.  I mean I would be okay with being gay, but I’m not. You can be though.” He blurted it out without taking a breath. 

          Any tension Jude had felt was replaced with a loose sense of good humor.  “It’s fine,” he chuckled, taking a seat on the floor with Griffin. “I just wanted to be clear.”

          “Yeah, I just want to be friends.” Griffin said to his feet. “We are friends, right?”

          “Definitely.” Jude said honestly. “So what do you like to do?”

          “I read a lot. I listen to a lot of music.” He said dreamily.

          “Yeah, but what do you do with your friends?”

          “I guess we used to play video games and stuff, but I haven’t had any friends in a while.” Griffin said nonchalantly, as he began eyeing the contents of the room once again.

          Jude gulped down his guilt at having been so insensitive.  Griffin really didn’t have any friends.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t think your mom was being serious.”

          “It’s okay. I really don’t mind. I don’t even like being around people a whole lot.  I mean, you’re cool, but I don’t really like most of the kids at school.”

          “Yeah, I’m not a huge fan, either.” Jude exhaled and shook his head. “You said you used to be friends with someone.  Who?”

          “It was back in the fourth and fifth grade, I used to hang out with Lamb a lot. He’s a real asshole now, though.” Griffin smirked. 

          “A total fucking asshole.”  Jude snorted. A year ago he would have not said anything.  A year ago he would have thought that saying mean things about other people was pointless. A year ago he did not understand how relieving it could be to commiserate.  “How did you become friends with Lamb?”

          “Our dads know each other, so we hung out a bunch when we were little.  Sometimes we still see each other outside of school when they get together.  He told me he would beat the shit out of me if I told anyone, though, so please don’t say anything.”

          “I won’t. But like, don’t all of your parents care that he’s a dick to you?”

          “I don’t think my parents know?” he questioned vaguely. “And I don’t think his dad would care.  Lamb and his dad are both kinda dicks.”   

          “But what’s he like outside of school when you’re together?  Does he just lock you in a closet and scream fag at the door all day? Or what” Jude laughed.       

          Griffin dissolved into laughter. “No.  We just play video games or ignore each other.  Sometimes we play with Lego’s.”

          “You guys play with Lego’s together?” Jude said in disbelief.

          “Yeah, it’s fun.” He said lightly.  Griffin sat up a little and leaned in.  “You have to promise not to say anything, but he actually does a lot of weird shit.” He said conspiratorially. 

          Jude cautiously nodded in agreement. “Like what?”

          Griffin sat and poured out a litany of Lamb’s odd behavior.  The kind of behavior that most liberal adults would forgive in a child (or not even care about in the first place), but that fellow middle-schoolers would not.  Jude soaked it in, regretting his promise. 

 

***

Preview of Chapter 5

 

          It was during lunch on Tuesday that things came to a head.  He had just sat down with Taylor, Daria, and Griffin, and was awaiting the inevitable shitshow of Marissa and company to join them.  He took out his phone to see a message from Connor.

          CS: I finished it! Want to see now or later?

          Jude typed an enthusiastic "YAAAASS NOW".

          A shadow passed over his screen.

          "Is he sending you a dick pic?" Lamb jeered from behind him. "Need some new jerk off material?"

          "God, Lamb, you are so gross!" Taylor said in derision.

          "I'm not the one who gets a hard on thinking about dudes blowing each other." He started moaning and thrusting his pelvis at Jude.

          And that is when Jude had had enough. 


End file.
